


The Devil Dares to Date

by Antarctic_Echoes



Series: Meta-Lucifer on AO3 [7]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Meta, Panicky Lucifer, Ridiculously Meta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-16 15:59:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9279002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antarctic_Echoes/pseuds/Antarctic_Echoes
Summary: Lucifer panics about asking Chloe out on a date, resulting in writer’s block.  Meanwhile, Amenadiel does not approve of their growing relationship.Sequel to “Solving the Mystery of Lightbringer1” -- picks up the evening of where that story left off.





	1. Writer's Block

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Grym](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grym/gifts), [AmyIsARealPhelps](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmyIsARealPhelps/gifts), [upquarkAO3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/upquarkAO3/gifts), [skaoi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skaoi/gifts), [mishasan7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mishasan7/gifts), [ScooterThyme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScooterThyme/gifts).



> So many people to thank!
> 
> Thank you to:
> 
> AmyIsARealPhelps, UpquarkAO3 and skaoi for the plot bunnies,
> 
> AmyIsARealPhelps, skaoi, mishasan7, ScooterThyme -- you know why!
> 
> mishasan7 for the fantastic beta!
> 
> ScooterThyme, I hope you will be feeling better soon!
> 
> Grym, because you won the Comment Bonanza! Sorry, I won't be able to do a drabble for you just yet, but I will! In the meantime, I hope this suffices! <3 YOU ROCK!
> 
> Sorry SueBob99, I did not use your prompt here but I definitely will in the next one! ;-)
> 
>  
> 
> ***Readers***: please keep in mind that this series diverged at the end of S2x08, which means the whole losing LUX thing has not happened, nor has the trial with Chloe’s dad’s killer... so the gradual development of feelings between the two has not happened. Here Lucifer is head over heels with Chloe, while Chloe is juuuuuust getting her feet wet.
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: Lucifer Morningstar and Chloe Decker are owned by Vertigo Comics, DC Comics, Neil Gaiman, Mike Carey, and everyone else involved with the Lucifer TV show and comic books. I own nothing and make no money on this. I merely am borrowing the characters for... uh... writing practice.

 

 

Lucifer Morningstar was riding high on a cloud.  A figurative cloud, that is -- he didn’t have any wings with which to actually fly, although at times like these he wished he did.  Ah, if only he hadn’t had Maze cut them off!

He couldn’t believe his good fortune.  Chloe had actually admitted that she cared for him!  It was just mind boggling, for he was the Devil -- no one had ever cared for him!  But then again, he had never loved anyone quite the way he loved her.  Maze had probably come the closest, but she was his demon, which was a far different thing than a... a girlfriend.  It wasn’t the same.  It wasn’t anything like what he felt for Chloe.

Chloe....  A smile lit his face when he thought of her.  Now that she knew he was Lightbringer1, he couldn’t wait to start a relationship with her.  When she had finally found out, she had hugged him, and oh, how good she’d felt in his arms!  Unfortunately, a detective had interrupted and called her away.  As she had left him, he assured her he would see her the next day, for he had things to do at LUX... and then he danced on a cloud all the way back to his club.

After dealing with the mix-up in the shipment of alcohol and taking care of little things at the nightclub, he headed upstairs to his penthouse.  As the elevator doors opened, he was surprised to find Maze at the bar, helping herself to a shot of Scotch.  Catching sight of him, she grabbed another shot glass off the counter and filled it up, then held it out to him.  Tipping his head to her as he smiled slightly, he took the glass and downed it.

“What brings you here, Maze?” he asked as he refilled his glass.

His demon smirked.  “Just wondering how long you’re going to let Lightbringer1 steal your thunder.”

“Oh, have no fear -- that was resolved today.”  He looked at her with a smug grin.  “The detective now knows it’s me.”

“Oh.”

Lucifer blinked.  Was it his imagination, or did his demon look disappointed?  “Why?  Were you planning something wonderfully nefarious against the douche?”

“No.”  Maze’s face twisted into a mopey frown.  “I wanted to see Chloe clean your clock.”  She squinted at his bruised face, then glanced at the ruins of the penthouse.  “It looks like I missed a good fight, too.”

He gave a low chuckle.  “Oh, this wasn’t the detective -- this was Amenadiel.”

The demon started.  “Amenadiel?”

“Mm,” Lucifer said as he downed his second shot of Scotch.  “I was feeling particularly destructive, and he served as a good punching bag.”

“It looks like you were the one who was the punching bag,” she said dryly, before leaning close with concerned eyes.  “Look, I’d steer clear of your brother, if I were you.  I don’t trust your mother, and those two have gotten awfully cozy lately.”

Maze’s warning rankled, even though he had the same uneasy feeling as his demon.  Shrugging off her words, he reached for the decanter of Scotch and poured himself another shot.  “I’m sure he’s just getting reacquainted with Mum.  After all, he hadn’t seen her in a very long time.”

“Sure.  Let me hear you say that after they stab you in the back,” Maze huffed.

The suspicious part of Lucifer wanted to take Maze’s advice and tread carefully with his family, while the part of him that still loved his mum wanted to shout and tell her she was wrong.  The part that loved his mum won.  “I beg to differ, Maze.  They won’t stab me in the back -- they have no reason to.”

The demon snorted with disgust.  “You’re an idiot.”

Irritation started bubbling up within him, and he struggled to tamp it down.  His hand involuntarily tightened, shattering the shot glass he held and spilling Scotch all over the counter.  “Damn it all,” he muttered as he rounded the counter and grabbed a bar towel.  With swift, jerky movements, he mopped up the shards of glass along with the alcohol.  “Are you going to continue insulting me, or did you have some other purpose in being here?”

“Well, since I didn’t get to see the big showdown between you and Chloe, I figure insulting you is the least I can do.”  She sauntered up to him as he paused in his cleaning efforts.  “So... now that she knows, when are you going to do it?”

Lucifer stared at his demon, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.  “Do what?”

“Do I have to spell it out?”  Maze rolled her eyes at him.  “Come on, Lucifer.  You know....”  She made a crude gesture with her fingers.

“Oh!” Lucifer said as he brightened.  “Oh... well....  I haven’t really thought... I mean, I haven’t discussed it with the Detective --”

“Since when have you ever discussed having sex with one of your humans?!” Maze snapped.  “What are you waiting for?  You’ve been lusting after her for a year!  Just grab her and do it on the floor, or against the wall or something!”

His eyes narrowed at Maze’s vulgar suggestion.  In carefully measured tones, he said, “The detective is not one to be treated in such a cavalier fashion.”

The demon laughed with contempt.  “You’ve fallen so low, Lucifer.  I would have never believed that you would truly be as sappy as your writing.  Ooooh, the Lord of Hell, as soft as one of Trixie’s plushy toys -- all flowery and sappy and oh so wimpy!”  She laughed uproariously as she doubled over with mirth.  “So when  _ are _ you going to do it, huh?  Because you really need to f--”

_ “Maze!” _

At his sharp tone, she sobered -- or tried to.  “I mean... what are you going to do now?”

Lucifer straightened and lifted his chin resolutely.  “I’m going to ask her out on a date.”

“A date.”

“Yes.”

“With Chloe.”

“Yes.”

The demon snorted, then erupted into guffaws, while Lucifer shot her an annoyed glance.

“What?” he asked.  “It’s not unheard of for the Devil to go on a date...!”

“The King of Hell is going to ask a  _ human _ on a date!  Oh, this just beats all!”

Lucifer really couldn’t understand why Maze was laughing so hard.  “I’ve been on dates before....”

She gave him a mocking glance.  “No, you’ve had sex.  Not the same, Lucifer.”

The blood drained from his face at the truth in her words.  While he had gone out with humans at times, it was only because they fell all over themselves to be with him, and it  _ always _ ended in sex.  Never before had  _ he _ asked anyone out on a date -- and now he was going to ask Chloe?  Chloe, who had never been susceptible to his good looks and charm?  What if she didn’t like the place he decided to take her?  What if she wasn’t impressed with anything he did for her? Worse yet -- what if he asked her out, and she said no?!

A strange, churning sensation twisted his insides as his breathing grew rapid.  He suddenly found it difficult to concentrate.  What was happening to him?!  The thought of Chloe rejecting him was absolutely horrifying.  No one rejected the Devil!  Well, except her, apparently.  She  _ could _ say no -- in fact, she said no to him constantly.  Bloody hell, what would he do if she said no?!  His heart started pounding like a jackhammer, and his breaths seized in his chest.  Lightheadedness assailed him, bringing with it black spots that danced in front of his eyes.  Was he dying?  Surely, he was dying....

No.   _ No. _  She would not say no.  She had said she cared for him.  She couldn’t say no... could she?

Maze watched him, her expression a strange combination of amusement and pity.  “Maybe watching you ask Chloe out will be just as good as seeing her beat your ass to a pulp,” she said with a smirk.  As she headed toward the elevator, she threw over her shoulder, “Enjoy your planning.  Make sure you ask her out when I’m around.”

Maze’s laugh echoed in his ears as the elevator doors closed behind her.  Lucifer stood frozen at the bar, waiting for the strange symptoms to fade.  They didn’t.

What was he going to do?  He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe.  He was terrified that Chloe would say she didn’t want to go out with him.  Not that it should matter to him -- after all, he had been rejected by his father and family, thrown into Hell and vilified by humanity and the divine ever since. Why should one human telling him “no” send frissons of fear down his spine?  And yet it did....

He struggled to understand the implications of a rejection.  She had said she cared for him, but if she rejected him, would that mean she only liked him as a friend?  That she had no intention of going beyond that?  Would he ever be able to show her how much he loved her?  He only knew one way to express his love, and that was through the physical act.  If she only thought of him as a friend, was he destined to a life of celibacy?  For, truth be told, there was only one person with whom he wanted to have sex -- Chloe Decker.

The distressing thoughts chased each other around until his head spun.  Trying to regain his equilibrium, he took a deep breath and poured himself another shot of Scotch.  His trembling hand nearly caused him to miss the glass, and he cursed as he returned the decanter to an upright position.  Downing his drink in one gulp, he closed his eyes as the alcohol burned down his throat.  He had to get a hold of himself before he drowned in anxiety.

There was only one thing he could think of that would allay his fears -- writing.  Nodding to himself, he headed toward the elevator.

 

 

________________________________________

 

 

It didn’t go as he had hoped.

Lucifer sat in front of the public access computer at the library, with a white screen staring back at him.  His fingers rested lightly on the keyboard, but they didn’t move.  Not a single thing came to his mind as he glared at the blank Google document.  Not one story idea.  Nothing.

It was more frustrating than having to count the number of souls that resided in Hell.  Why couldn’t he think of anything?  He needed to write, to work out his fears, to figure out the best way to ask Chloe out.  If he couldn’t write, what would become of him?

“Bloody hell!” he spat, earning him several dirty looks from other library patrons.  Ignoring them, the Devil logged out, rose to his impressive height, and strode out of the building.  Despair clawed at him as he climbed into his car.  Leaning his forehead against the steering wheel, he took deep breaths and tried to calm himself down.

He could write.  He could still write.  This was just temporary.

He’d go back to LUX and dance his heart out.  Surely that would help?  Maybe inspiration might hit...?  He hoped so.  It had to.  If it didn’t, he’d be in trouble when he saw Chloe in the morning....

 

 


	2. Getting Advice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A super-big thank you to my beta, mishasan7, for all your hard work! Thank you so much, you're awesome!!

 

 

The next day Lucifer strode into the precinct, determined to ask Chloe for a date.  Nothing was going to stop him.  Although dancing at LUX the night before hadn’t cured his inability to write, he reassured himself that he could ask Chloe out.   After all, there was no way she could possibly refuse, right?  He was the Devil -- he would say something smooth, impress her with his moves, and she would say yes.  It didn’t matter that she never seemed impressed by anything he did -- oh, no.  This time would be different -- he could feel it in his bones.  Dressed in his best suit with his favorite plum-colored shirt, he strutted right up to her desk.

Chloe was bent over her computer working on a report or something, looking stunning in her smart clothes and her beautiful golden hair swept up in a ponytail.  Lucifer’s head fell to one side as he studied her.  He found it charming that she chewed her bottom lip while she scanned the papers on the desk next to her.  Oh, how he’d like to feel her soft lips on his, breathe the same air that she did --

She glanced up, blinking in surprise.  “Oh, hey, Lucifer!  I didn’t expect to see you this early.”  Her eyes twinkled as her mouth softened into a smile.  “You usually don’t show up when it’s time to do paperwork.”

Her expression overwhelmed him -- she was so radiant, she practically glowed.  The sight of her emptied his mind of every single thought; he didn’t know what to do or say.  Why had he come up to her desk?  He was supposed to ask her something, wasn’t he?  Like a deer caught in the headlights, he stood frozen as he stared at her.

“Ah.  Yes.  Right,” he said, scrambling for words.  Bloody hell, why couldn’t he think?  “It’s... paperwork day?”

“We closed the Fisher case the other day, don’t you remember?  And I’m so backed up on paperwork that I’m just getting to it.  I thought you knew?”

Lucifer, mesmerized by the sight of her, found himself at a loss for words.  He had always known how exquisite she was, but why had he never noticed until now how her hair was like the loveliest strands of burnished gold?  That her sparkling aqua eyes were more dazzling than any gem in the universe?  That her lips looked far softer than the petals of a red rose?

“Uhhh....”  He couldn’t even speak.  Him!  The Devil!  He was never without something to say!  And yet....

Her eyebrows furrowed and the smile slipped from her face, to be replaced by a puzzled frown.  “Are you okay?”

“Uh....”  What was happening to him?!  Since when had the Devil become a complete prat?!

“Lucifer?”  Her lovely eyes narrowed with concern.

“Uh....”  What was he supposed to say to her?  He had to be suave... smooth.  Why couldn’t he think of one bloody thing to say to her?!  He had to ask her out -- that’s right!  But what if she said no?  Bloody hell, _what if she said no?!_

Lucifer’s heart began to pound furiously, and an odd rushing noise roared in his ears.  His breathing became uncomfortably shallow and his head felt like a balloon, overloaded with helium and threatening to fly off on its own.  Was he going to pass out?  What was happening to him?!  This had never happened before!  Numbness started creeping into his hands and fingers, and suddenly everything seemed so wrong, so out of control.  He had to get out of there, he had to leave --

“Lucifer, what’s wrong?”

He looked up to see Chloe rising from her desk, her face full of worry.  Beautiful Chloe, the epitome of perfection.... How could he even talk to her?  He was the Devil -- what right did he have to even be near someone so pure and good?  Bloody hell --

He had to get out of there, had to get out, get out, out out out --

“I... I forgot something.  I have to go,” he said in a choked voice before turning on his heel and striding away.  He heard her call after him, but he didn’t slow down.  Instead he sped up, struggling to get his runaway heart under control, find his breath, and regain his composure.  Quickly turning a corner, he dove into a nearby custodian’s closet.  Oh how the Devil had fallen -- hiding in a bloody closet from the woman he adored, like a shy, lovesick loon!

Chloe called out to him again, but he leaned against the door and hoped she wouldn’t start looking for him.  Footsteps approached, paused, then receded.  After five minutes, he sighed and felt his heartbeat resume its normal thumping.

Bloody hell, what had just happened?  Had he been on the verge of death?  Lucifer ran his hands down his face.  His jumbled thoughts had made no sense.  Never having had an experience like that before, it rattled him greatly.

Perhaps it was related to his inability to write?  For surely if he could write about Chloe and find the right words to ask her on a date, he wouldn’t feel so... so... odd?  Mayhap Ella could help?  After all, she was a writer herself....  Cracking open the door, he peeked up and down the hall.  No Chloe.  Nodding to himself, he eased out of the closet and headed for Ella’s office.

Once he got to the crime lab, he looked through the plate glass window and breathed a sigh of relief.  The cheery lab tech was working at her computer.  With a hard rap on the glass, Lucifer caught her attention.  She turned and waved him inside with a smile.

“Lightbringer1!  Have you finally told Chloe?”

He nodded with a smile.  “The detective found out yesterday that I’m the one who has been writing stories for her, not Detective Douche.”

Ella’s face broke out into a huge grin.  “Awesome sauce, dude!  So... are you going to go on a date now?”

Suddenly finding his cufflinks the most fascinating thing in the world, Lucifer fiddled with them while avoiding his friend’s gaze.  “Ah.  Right.  About that....”

She sounded positively gleeful.  “Yes?”

Glancing up at her before sliding his eyes away again, he mumbled, “Right.  I... I haven’t actually asked her out yet.”

There was a long silence as she stared at him, her mouth agape.  “What?”

“I haven’t asked her out.”

“Oh my god!”  Ella flung her hands out and rolled her eyes skyward.  “Why not?!”

Ducking his head like a little boy, he said in a small voice, “I’m not sure how.”

“You -- you’re not sure how?  But -- but -- you’re a ladies’ man!  Surely you can --”

He shook his head.

“Oh.  Okay.  Well... just ask her, then!” she said brightly.

He stared at her with stricken eyes.  “But... I don’t know what to say!”

Ella heaved a heavy sigh, took him by the shoulders, and gave him a little shake.  “Just say, ‘Would you go out with me tonight?’”

“But... that’s so...blasé!  It should be more -- more --”

“More what?”

Lucifer flung up his hands in frustration.  “Just more!”  He shook his head.  “Besides, what if she says no?”

She laughed.  “Chloe?  Say no?  Dude, are you out of your mind?”

He worried his lower lip between his teeth.  “She could.”

“She wouldn’t, trust me.  Just ask her!”

 _“No._  I can’t ask her.  Bloody hell, I can’t even face her.”  His hand raked his hair, leaving it uncharacteristically unkempt and giving him a vaguely deranged air .  “I tried just now.  My heart started pounding and my hands went numb.  I bloody well thought I was going to pass out.”

“Oh my god, dude -- you had a panic attack?!”

“What?!  You think Dad had something to do with this?!”  Fury ripped through Lucifer’s insides, and he shook his fist at the ceiling.  “Bloody bastard!”

She looked at him like he was crazy.  “Dude, are you blaming _God_ for your panic attack?  That’s all you, man.”

For a moment he stared at her, appalled, then shook his head firmly.  “No.  Impossible!  The Devil does not panic!”

Ella looked at him skeptically.  “Yeah, well, it sounds like a panic attack to me.”

He chose to ignore her remark.  “Look, I came here to ask for your help.”

Her eyebrows climbed toward her hairline.  “My... help?”

He nodded.  “Yes.  Your help.  I... I find myself unable to write.  I cannot function if I can’t write.”

Ella made an exasperated sound.  “What’s that got to do with anything?!  We’re talking about Chloe --”

“Yes, I realize that.  Right.  I’m sure if I wrote about the detective, it would help me find the right words to ask her on a date.  Writing helps me clear my thoughts, but I can’t think -- I can’t be romantic -- if I can’t write.”  He turned pleading eyes toward her.  “Please -- you must help me!”

She held up her hands in a conciliatory manner.  “Okay, buddy, okay.  Take a deep breath.”  Pausing for a moment as she assessed him more closely, she added, “Maybe several.”

Lucifer filled his lungs with air over and over, but couldn’t see the sense in it.  “This is ridiculous.  It’s not doing anything except showing me what an absolutely useless endeavor breathing is.”

Ella gave him an odd look.  “Riiiiiiight.  Look, it’ll help you pull yourself together.  Trust me, okay?”

He took another deep breath and nodded.  “Very well.”

“Now, here’s what you do.  Ask the other LuciCryph writers for help.  They have a lot of experience on all aspects of writing, and can give you good advice....”

Armed with Ella’s suggestion, Lucifer left her office a few minutes later, full of hope.  Peeking around a corner, he saw Chloe working at her desk.  His heart melted in a most undevilish manner; he flattened himself back against the wall as he tried to stop the butterflies in his stomach.  Bloody hell, this was worse than dying!  He took Ella’s advice and tried taking a few deep breaths.  Sure enough, it worked... kind of.  Swallowing hard, he peeked around the corner once more to see another detective speaking to Chloe.

“Come on, Decker, the training module’s about to start.”

“Thanks, be right there.”

He admired the view of Chloe’s very attractive derriere as she rose to her feet and followed the other detective down the hall.  After he was sure she was gone, he ambled over to her desk, casting glances around to make sure no one was looking.  Most of the desks were empty -- apparently all the detectives were at the “training module,” whatever that was; it sounded incredibly boring.  Taking a seat, he logged onto Chloe’s computer.

Lucifer opened up Facebook and clicked on the link that took him to the LuciCryph writers’ private group.  Thinking hard about what he wanted to say, he put out the following message blast, hoping that someone could help him with his problem.

“Might any of you lovely ladies be able to assist me?  I have this terrible urge to write, but I find myself stuck for ideas.  The words claw at my insides, yet refuse to come out.  What is ailing me, and how might I fix it?”

He pushed the Post button and waited to see who would respond.  It didn’t take long for responses to start flooding in from all the wonderful ladies who happened to be online.  Many of them suggested that he take a break from writing -- not a bloody option, sadly -- but one writer seemed to have a different solution.  He began reading Valkyrie’s long comment to his post.

Valkyrie :  Hey, Lightbringer1.  Sounds like you're describing classic writer's block.  Happens to everyone - kinda like ED, except in your head, ya know?

ED?   _Erectile dysfunction?!_ No.   _No._  He glared at the screen, his eyebrows slamming together.  “Ridiculous!” he snorted.  He tried to laugh it off, but the concept was so horrifying to him that he instead got up and paced furiously for several moments, then took a deep breath and sat back down.  He began to read from the beginning once more and succeeded in remaining calm, until he ran into ED again.

Bloody hell... Even if he just had it in his head, it was _unacceptable_ _!_  The Devil never got ED -- of _any_ sort!  It made Lucifer even more desperate to fix his problem.  He continued reading.

Valkyrie (continued) :  We all get it.  I've had it multiple times.  Something that works for me is to try something completely different than what I've been working on.  Maybe write from a completely different perspective.  So, for example, you've been writing all these sweet personal POV pieces - which nobody can deny are fantastic (point me at anyone who says otherwise and I'll kill them, just for you, honey).

The last sentence filled him with ambivalence.  He was gratified that Valkyrie would kill for him -- perhaps he should point her in Amenadiel’s direction? -- but appalled that his writings were classified as “sweet.”  Bloody, bloody hell, the Devil was _not_ sweet!  Strong, yes.  Sexy? Definitely!  Bold, ready to mete out punishment to those who deserved it, fun-loving with an exceptional -- nay, _glorious_ \-- body, a maker of sensational deals... but sweet?   _Sweet?_ While it was true that he loved his detective to distraction and would do anything for her -- even sacrifice himself for her happiness -- he was... not....

At the thought of Chloe, his insides melted into a warm puddle of love goo.  Bloody hell.  He _was_ sweet.  Maze would be so disgusted....

Heaving a deep sigh, Lucifer continued reading.

Valkyrie (continued) :  Maybe switch it up and write from a different point of view or even trade personas.  Like how your Detective in your stories is a bad-ass, tough as nails cop that keeps her personal business personal (if you know what I mean).  Maybe write her as someone who likes to party but still (unbelievably to many) gets stuff done - like your character.

The fallen angel stopped reading the comments for a moment, and blinked.  Would that work?  Would that really work and get rid of the cursed ED in his head?  Could he see himself as the hard-working, staid owner of a club, with Chloe as a flighty party girl?  He supposed he could channel Amenadiel when writing himself as a stuffy stick in the mud....  Perhaps he could channel one of the Brittanys when writing the detective’s character...?  Cocking his head thoughtfully, he nodded.   Yes, he could see it...!  Valkyrie had fine advice!  Eager to see what other advice she might have, he continued to read her comment.

Valkyrie (continued) :  And, I gotta say I love how you shamelessly Mary Sue - OMG.  Everybody does it but nobody owns it the way you do.  It's awesome!

Mary... Sue?  Lucifer squinted at the screen.  Mary Sue.  Who was Mary Sue?  Was she saying that his name was Mary Sue?  No, she said he shamelessly Mary Sued.  What was a Mary Sue?  Was it another phrase for having sex?  She did say everyone did it, so it must mean sex.  He nodded, feeling wiser as every moment passed.  Yes, he was very good at shamelessly Mary Sue-ing!

Valkyrie (continued) :  Anyway, hope this helps.  Totally can't wait to read what you come up with next.

Excitement started to build in Lucifer, making him giddy.  Indeed, Valkyrie’s wise words did help!  He could not wait to start writing again.  After replying with a profuse thank you, along with the offer of free drinks should she ever come to LUX, he logged out of Facebook and opened a Google Document.  Flexing his fingers with anticipation, he started to type.

 

 

________________________________________

 

 

Lucifer was a busy man -- running a club was hard work.  There was alcohol to purchase, books to be balanced, the dancers, the disc jockey, and the bouncers to be paid....  The chores were never-ending, and he often felt completely buried.  At times he even thought it was a harder job than running Hell!  It was depressing that he had left the underworld for... this.  Being the Devil should have given him enough of an excuse to be one of those fun club owners who could dance with the patrons and do nothing but drink, but he had responsibilities.  People who relied on him.  He just didn’t have that kind of time.

Checking his watch, he saw that an hour had passed since he had left the police at the scene of Delia’s murder.  They had let him go, telling him that the detectives would come to interview him later.  Shouldn’t they be here by now?  Lucifer wanted them to get cracking on the singer’s case.  His heart lurched at the thought of his dead friend.  He had liked her -- she had been a bit of a messed up kid who made insanely wrong choices, but she had been sweet.  Never one to be shy around him despite the rumors swirling around that he was the Devil, she had been surprisingly kind to him.

Sighing, he went behind the bar and talked to his bartender, Patrick, about the mix-up with the shipment of Scotch.  It was always something at the bar.  First several bottles of tequila had been broken upon arrival from the distributor, and now this -- the company had sent the wrong Scotch.  It made Lucifer want to throw things. Large and heavy things that would break with satisfyingly loud noises on the pavement outside.  In his anxiety, he barely noticed the very cute, bouncy blonde woman sauntering down the steps into his club.

“Hey, did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?” the bubbly woman asked him with an appraising look as she came up to the bar.  He looked up, annoyed by the distraction and irritated by the pick-up line.

"Yes, actually, it hurt very much -- _thank_ you for bringing that up."

The woman blinked at him with surprise, then said with a saucy grin, “Ah.  You’re Lucifer Morningstar.”

That caught him off-guard.  Who was this crazy woman?  “Why yes.  You are...?”

She introduced herself and said, “I’m the detective working on Delia’s case.  Wow, I gotta say, you are one fine looking dude!”

Lucifer blinked with surprise.  “You... you don’t seem like a detective.”

She giggled, her eyes twinkling like stars.  “Oh, I am.  I breezed through the ranks.  My dad was a cop, you see,” she said with a wink.  “He got me in, you know.  Plus the exams were no problem.”

“I... see,” he said, even though he didn’t.

“And your name... is that a stage name or something?”

“God given, I’m afraid.”

She giggled again.  “It sounds like a stripper’s name!  You should totally be a male stripper.  You would be awesome at it!”

Lucifer didn’t know whether to be flattered or affronted.

The detective pulled out a very large leather pad holder from the messenger bag slung over her shoulder, and opened it to a fresh sheet of paper.  Digging through her bag, she suddenly turned to him and said with a sheepish grin, “Do you have a pen?  I can’t find mine....”

Glancing at her warily, Lucifer reached into his suit pocket and pulled out an expensive fountain pen.

Chortling, she said, “Thanks!  I always forget mine.  Be sure to get this back from me when we’re done.  I’m a terrible klepto....”

He was beginning to have serious doubts about the detective, but she surprised him at her next question.  “Now, tell me all about Delia,” she said, suddenly all business.  “Did she have any enemies?”

“None that I know of, although her choice in men was questionable.”

“Hm.  Did she ever sleep with you?”

He blinked at her.  “I -- I beg your pardon?!”

“Because you’re a total hottie.”  The detective winked again at him.  “I wouldn’t blame her if she did, because, well, look at you!”

He gaped.  He couldn’t help it.

 

 

________________________________________

 

 

A creepy feeling started to come over Lucifer as he typed, as if someone was right there....  Turning his head, he saw Chloe’s face right beside his, reading over his shoulder.  Yelping in surprise, he jumped and fell out of his chair.  Bloody hell, he needed to put bells on her or something!  When had she walked up?!  The detective’s eyes narrowed with irritation as she slowly turned to look at him.  Her seething gaze filled him with apprehension… and more than a little lust.

“D-Detective!” he cried as he scrambled back into the chair.  “I... I didn’t know you were back --”

“What the hell are you writing?” she asked in a dangerous tone.  Her gaze returned to the monitor.  “Why am I telling you you’re a total hottie?!”

“Ah... right.  Yes.  That.  Well....”

She read the story from the beginning, then rounded angrily on him.  “Oh my god, Lucifer, you made me into a bimbo!”

_Bloody hell --_

Chloe’s hand slapped the back of his head.  Hard.  He cried out and went sprawling forward.

“And since when are you the oh-so-responsible one?!”  she yelled, and slapped him upside the head once again when he had recovered.

“Bloody hell, Detective!” he snapped.  “Stop that!  You are not Gibbs and I am not Tony DiNozzo!”

“Then stop writing like an ass!”  She waved at the computer screen.  “You can’t have me be a total bimbo in your story!”

“But -- it’s just an exercise to help me with my writer’s block! The Devil can’t have ED, even in his head!”

Chloe grabbed the armrests of the chair, effectively pinning Lucifer in.  Leaning very close to his face, she growled, “Fix this.”

Bloody hell but she was so sexy when she was angry!  The fire in her eyes made him want to throw her onto her desk and make mad passionate love to her in front of everyone.  His gaze fell to her mouth, so soft and oh so close --

He half-expected her to pull away as she usually did when she noticed he was getting aroused by her ire, but this time nothing happened.  Glancing quickly up, he discovered with surprise that her eyes were on his mouth, and they looked... hungry?  Time suddenly slowed as her gaze lifted to meet his, and he found himself drowning in her incredible aqua eyes -- so deep, fathomless, and darkening with passion --

“What the hell?!”

Dan’s exclamation broke the spell.  They pulled away from each other like they were magnets of the same polarity, with such a strong repelling force that Lucifer felt like he got whiplash.

“You can’t be serious,” Dan said to Chloe as he glared at Lucifer.  “Please tell me you’re not attracted to this... this man-child!”

Chloe straightened, a fine blush marring her cheeks as she cleared her throat.  “It’s none of your business,” she said as she glared back.  “Why are you here?”

Her ex’s eyes narrowed at her defensive tone.  “Johnson’s partner is laid up with the flu.  The lieutenant wants us to help him run down his suspect.”

“Okay, why don’t you go and track down Johnson?  I’ll be right there.”

Dan gave Lucifer a dark look before pushing past Chloe and walking away.

“Pillock.” the Devil muttered at the man’s back, then caught Chloe looking at him.  The anger -- and perhaps some of the passion? -- had faded from her face; her eyes gentled as she looked at him.  Walking up to him, she placed a hand on his shoulder.  Her touch burned him through his suit jacket, and a wave of heat crept up his neck into his cheeks.

“Are you okay?” she asked.  “You were acting a little weird earlier.”

“I --”  His voice broke.  Clearing his throat, he struggled to get himself under control even as his heart fluttered at her nearness.  “I’m fine, Detective.”

“Are you sure?”

Oh, how her eyes were so kind, so tender, so... caring!  Lucifer felt his mouth go dry at her gaze.  Unable to form any words, he merely nodded.  A soft smile touched her lips at his response.  Reaching out, she cupped his stubble-lined cheek in her hand, sending tingles up and down his spine.

“Good.  I worry about you.”

Any words that were on his tongue abandoned him completely as joy shot through him.  She had been worried about him!  His heart started cartwheeling  in his chest.  Even though he wasn’t sure what to say, he opened his mouth to respond --

“Chloe!”

Dan’s sharp call broke the spell.  They both turned to see the douche with another detective standing nearby, obviously waiting for her.  Her eyes filled with regret as she turned back to Lucifer.

“Sorry,  I have to go.  See you later.”  As she walked away, she called back, “Be sure to fix -- you know!”

Like a lovelorn teenager, he nodded before he realized what she had asked him to do.  Bloody hell, he had to fix the story he had started.  Turning back to the computer, he wondered how he could change it to make the detective less of a... “bimbo,” in Chloe’s words.  Maybe he should just finish the story, then delete it?  Or perhaps just start afresh?  Rubbing the back of his neck with frustration, he realized he had run into ED in his head once again.

“Bloody hell....”

 

 


	3. Asking Chloe Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A super-huge thank you to my excellent beta, mishasan7! You make my work shine! Thank you!

 

 

“I don’t understand it,” Lucifer told Linda Martin as he paced in her office.  “I just don’t understand it!”

Linda sighed.  It was so taxing to have the Devil as a patient.  More often than not, he barged into her office and started talking mid-sentence, mid-subject.  She was hard-pressed to figure out what was bothering him half the time.  “What don’t you understand?”

The fallen angel glanced over at her, then threw himself onto the couch with a heavy sigh.  “This... this horrific ED I have in my head!”

“E...D?”  Linda lifted an eyebrow.  “You have ED... in your head?”

“Yes!” Lucifer spat with frustration.  “Please try to keep up, Doctor!”

_ I’d keep up better if you just told me what was going on! _ she thought to herself.  Taking a deep breath, she sent up a prayer for patience.  “You want to know how to get rid of this... ED.”

“Yes!  Of course!  Bloody hell, the Devil never has ED of any kind!”

So... he was imagining himself impotent?  Linda squinted at him through her glasses.  “If you have ED in your head, I suspect all you have to do is picture yourself having sex and it will be gone...?”

Lucifer sighed heavily and gave her a long-suffering look.  “If it was that simple, Doctor, I wouldn’t have ED in my head in the first place!”

“Okaaaay....”  The conversation was getting weirder and weirder.  Linda decided to try another approach.  “Well, why don’t you tell me what you think caused this... ED in your head?”

“If I knew what caused it, I wouldn’t be here!”

She sighed and nudged her glasses up so that she could pinch the bridge of her nose.  Sometimes she wished Lucifer was just a normal patient with normal problems... like a coworker who was being a jerk, or a boss who was overbearing.  Helping him would be far simpler.

“Okay, let’s go back.  When did you first notice this... ED in your head?”

The Devil thought for a moment, sinking deep into the couch and leaning against the backrest.  “Right.  Yesterday, after the detective and I... admitted that we... cared for each other.”

Yes!  Progress!  “I’m glad you’ve finally taken that step, Lucifer.  That shows quite a bit of emotional maturity.”  She leaned forward.  “So let me get this straight.  You admitted you cared for Chloe, and that’s when you noticed you had ED in your head?”

He nodded solemnly.  “Yes.  It’s horrible.”

“And how did it manifest itself?”

“It just did!”  The tall man popped off the couch and started pacing again.  “I mean, how can I possibly write when I’m afflicted with this malady?!”

Linda blinked.  “Wait.  Are you... are you saying you can’t write?”

“Yes!”

“So this... ED in your head is your way of saying you can’t write.”

_ “Yes!”  _  He sighed heavily.   _ “Finally _ you understand!”

She chuckled as the light dawned.  “You... you have writer’s block!”

He gave her a withering glance.  “I hardly think this is a laughing matter, Doctor.”

“No, no, no.... I had thought... well, it really doesn’t matter what I thought.”  Linda smiled widely at him.  “I’m glad to know you and Chloe are finally dating --”

He sat himself back down on the couch as he cleared his throat.  “We... aren’t.”

The blonde therapist stared at Lucifer for a long moment, puzzled.  “You... aren’t what?”

“Dating.”

“You’re not dating?”

He shook his head as his shoulders slumped.

“Well, why not?”

The Devil looked uncomfortable as he shifted restlessly on the couch.  He mumbled something that Linda couldn’t hear.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I haven’t asked her.”

She leaned back in her chair, stunned.  “You haven’t asked her...?”

He shook his head.  “No.”

It really boggled Linda’s mind that Lucifer -- suave, debonair, confident Lucifer -- hadn’t asked Chloe on a date.  After all, he had feelings for her....  “Why not?”

“I... can’t.  I can’t even get close to her,” he bemoaned.

“Can’t... get close?”

He nodded as he buried his head in his hands.  “Right.  My insides feel all weak and wobbly, my stomach starts doing somersaults, and I get short of breath.  I can’t think straight.”  With tortured eyes he glanced back up at Linda.  “I... I can’t say one coherent sentence when she’s in the room!”

She gave a little chuckle.  “It’s perfectly normal to feel such things when you’re in love --”

Lucifer glared at her.  “No, Doctor, this is not normal!  I feel like a bloody prat!  How am I supposed to impress her if I’m reduced to a blubbering idiot?  She’ll never want to be with me if I can’t string two bloody words together!”

“But you saw her today --”

He nodded.  “And acted like a complete ninny.”

“Well, I’m sure if you just ask her out --”

“But that’s the thing, Doctor!  I can’t ask her out!”  Lucifer cradled his head in his hands again.  “I don’t know what to say.  I know that if I can just... write, I can come up with a good way to ask her -- but I can’t write!”

“Okay, okay, calm down, Lucifer.”

“Why does everyone keep telling me that?!” he roared.  _  “I am calm!” _

Linda rolled her eyes.  Obviously, the Devil was not listening to himself speak.  “You’re shouting at me.  Does that sound like someone who’s calm?”

He gaped at her, his jaw working furiously, before he clamped his mouth shut and turned toward the window.  “My apologies,” he ground out.

Setting her notepad on the desk beside her, she leaned forward.  “Okay, here’s what I want you to do, Lucifer.  I want you to call Chloe up.  Right now.”

He looked horrified.  “Now?”

“Now.”

“B-but --”

She sighed.  “Trust me, Lucifer.  Get your phone out and call.”

Giving her a suspicious glance, the Devil pulled out his phone and dialed.  “It’s ringing,” he told her.

“Good.”

“Ah.  Yes, hello, Detective.  I...”  He broke off and looked at Linda helplessly.

Nodding, she whispered, “Ask her out.”

“She’ll say no!” he hissed furiously as he placed a hand over the device’s microphone.

Linda shook her head.  “She won’t.  Come on, you’re keeping her waiting.”

He stared at her as if she was mad, then removed his hand from his phone.  “Ah....”

“Say, ‘Will you go out with me tonight?’” Linda prompted.

“Uh....”

“Say it!  Will you....”

“W-will you...”

“Go out....”

“Go out...”

“With me tonight?”

“With... with me t-tonight?”  Lucifer’s face suddenly lit up.  “You will?  Splendid!”  He turned to Linda with excitement as he hung up the phone.  “She will!”

Linda stared, horrified.  “Did you just hang up on her?!”

“Bloody hell!”  He fumbled with his phone, redialing with shaking hands.  Linda chuckled; it was bizarre and unbelievable that she was helping the Devil to ask a girl out!  And, she had to admit, it was also kind of adorable.

“Sorry, love, sorry.... I just.... What?  Oh... splendid!  Yes.  I’ll pick you up at seven.  What would you like to....  Italian?  Lovely!  Very well, I’ll see you tonight!”  Lucifer turned shining eyes to Linda as he tucked his phone away.  “She said yes!”

She nodded sagely.  “I knew she would.  Now... how do you feel?”

He gave her a huge grin.  “Like I still have wings!”

“And... the writing?”

“I feel almost as good as when I ate that five pound bag of sugar in one sitting, just to feel the rush!  I believe I could write a tome!”  He bounded out of his seat like an excited little boy.  “Thank you, Doctor!  Thank you!”

Before the therapist could say anything more, the Devil ran out of her office, leaving nothing but rustling papers in his wake.  “Let me know how it goes!” she called after him, then chuckled.  Just adorable.

 

 

________________________________________

 

 

Lucifer arrived at LUX, more excited than he had ever been.  A date -- a date with Chloe!  He couldn’t wait!  He checked his watch; it was only three o’clock.  Four hours to go -- plenty of time.  He’d make reservations at Angelini Osteria on the West Side -- their menu was a bit unusual, but he was sure she’d enjoy it.  Then perhaps they could come back here for a little dancing, a little romance...?   His heart started pumping faster at the thought of some alone time with his detective.  Yes, everything was going to be perfect!  Whistling a happy tune, he rode the elevator up to the penthouse.

When the doors opened, he was surprised to see Amenadiel waiting for him by the bar.  Bloody hell, what was  _ he _ doing here?  Lucifer really didn’t want to deal with his stuffy brother -- not now, when he had a date to get ready for!

Striding in, he walked up to the angel and didn’t mince words.  “What do you want?”

Amenadiel lifted an eyebrow at him.  “Woke up on the wrong side of the bed, did we?”

“Shut up, you feathered git.”  The Devil grabbed an old-fashioned glass on the counter and poured himself two fingers of Scotch from a nearby decanter.  “I’m busy.”

“Doing what?” his brother scoffed.  “Playing around with your club?”

“I’ll have you know I have a date tonight,” he said with a lift of his chin, then downed his drink.

“A date?”  Amenadiel snorted with contempt.  “With one of your many women?  Don’t make me laugh.”

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed as he carefully set his glass on the bar.  “With the detective, if you must know.”

The angel blinked at his fallen brother, surprise evident on his face.  “Chloe?”

“That’s right.”  The Devil grinned as he thrust out his chest and rocked back on his heels.  “She’s agreed to go out with me tonight.”

“She agreed, knowing what you are?”

“She still doesn’t believe I’m the Devil.”  He didn’t want to think about that now.  He knew it was a problem, and that any relationship with her couldn’t last -- he was a monster, after all -- but... but couldn’t he have this one date with her?  Couldn’t he be happy just once before having to return to his life as an outcast in lonely solitude?  Fidgeting with his cufflinks, he avoided the angel’s eye.  “But I hardly see what that has to do with anything.”

For a moment Amenadiel just stared, then broke out in gales of laughter.  It caught Lucifer off-guard, and he blinked.  “What’s so bloody funny?”

“You’re a fool, Lucifer,” he replied.  “I never imagined you to be such a fool.”

Bristling, the fallen angel glared at his brother.  “What do you mean?”

“You’re in love with her, right?  I mean, come on -- admit it,” he said.  “You gave carte blanche to Dad in exchange for her safety.  Now you’re going on a date with her.  Do you really think it’s wise to do this to her?”

Lucifer’s brows furrowed.  “Do what to her?”

“By Father, you are so dense.”  Amenadiel leaned close to Lucifer, getting nose-to-nose with him.  “You’re the Devil.  How do you think she’s going to handle going out with Evil Incarnate?”

Anger burned through him at the unjust title.  “I’m not --”

His brother ruthlessly cut him off.  “Look at yourself, Luci --  _ really _ look at yourself.”

Lucifer glanced down at his body, then back up to his brother, his brow furrowed.  “I don’t see anything wrong --”

A snicker escaped Amenadiel’s lips.  “Seriously?  You’re the Devil.  Take a look in the mirror, will you?  Do you think she could love someone like you?  Scarred, ugly, monstrous.  A fallen angel.   _ The Devil. _  What’s to keep her from going insane when she sees what you really look like?  And even if she did think she could be with you, what would you be doing to her?  You’d be condemning her to a life as an outcast -- a pariah among humans.  The Devil’s Consort.”

Lucifer bit his lower lip and looked away.  He hadn’t considered that.  “It... it wouldn’t be like that,” he blustered, although doubt gnawed at his insides.  Would it?  Would he be condemning her to a lifetime of ridicule?  A hollow feeling started radiating from his heart, infecting his body and numbing his extremities.

“Are you kidding me?” Amenadiel laughed again, the sound harsh and grating.  “She would be painted by the same brush that paints you as evil.  Your reputation would destroy hers.  Can you really do that to her?  Are you really  _ that _ selfish?”

The Devil fell silent as all the blood drained from his face.  With shaking hands, he reached over and poured himself another drink.  “You’re wrong,” he said, although his voice wavered almost imperceptibly.  “It wouldn’t be like that.”

“I thought you said you didn’t lie.”

Lucifer shot an angry glance at his brother.  “I don’t!”

Amenadiel snorted again, then leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest.  “You’re lying to yourself.  It’s pathetic.”  The angel turned and braced his arms against the bar, looking down at his shoes before turning to look at his brother.  “Look,” he said in a reasonable tone, “I know how hard this whole Devil thing is for you.  You deserve better.  Come back to Heaven with Mom and I, Luci.  Put all this behind you.  We can start over, have a better life.  You won’t destroy Chloe’s life if you just come back --”

“No.”

“So you’ll just stay here and destroy Chloe? The one that you love?”  Amenadiel made air quotes around the word “love.”  “For Heaven’s sake, Luci, don’t be such an ass.  Stop thinking only of yourself.  If you truly love Chloe, you’d leave her alone and come home.  It’s far better there.”

“I’m not going back!” the Devil roared, his eyes burning bright like twin flames.  “I told you and Mum already -- I’m never going back!”

“Luci --”

“And you can’t make me!”

For a long moment the two brothers stared hard at each other, before Amenadiel lifted his hands in a conciliatory gesture.  “Okay, okay.  Just... think about it, okay? You know where to find Mom and I.”

With that, Amenadiel walked past Lucifer, brushing against his shoulder.  The Devil glared as he watched his brother enter the elevator.  Smirking, Amenadiel lifted his chin as the doors closed on him.

Arrogant bastard!  How dare he come into his home and ruin his happiness!

But... his brother did have a point.  Lucifer let the fire recede from his eyes.  Chloe was everything to him.  He couldn’t let her life be destroyed because of him.  She had been ostracized once before, and it had hurt her deeply.  Being labeled as the Devil’s Consort would be even more devastating for her, and he just couldn’t do that to her.  He loved her far too much to destroy her life with his horrible reputation.

And the truth was that, no matter how he looked at it, he _ was _ a monster -- the Devil.  She wouldn’t be able to love him, that was for sure.  She probably wouldn’t even be able to look at him in the face without going insane, or at least going into severe shock.  The image of Doctor Linda’s horrified face, her terrified reaction to the truth, floated before his eyes.  It would be far worse for the detective; he had only been seeing his therapist on a weekly basis, while he had worked with Chloe daily for a whole year, been to her house, made her breakfast, been with her little spawn....

Oh no.  Chloe would never understand.  She’d be horrified that a monster such as he had intruded into her life, been in her home.  Lucifer pulled at the back of his neck, trying to massage away the sudden tension there.

But oh, how he had wanted at least one day of happiness with her!  Or even just one date!  But... no.  He wasn’t allowed that....  Not even that.

Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out his phone and stared down at it.  In his hand was the instrument that would end it all... and he knew he had to.  He didn’t want to -- everything inside of him screamed at him to throw the phone across the room.  But... he had to do what was right for Chloe.  He could never hurt her.  Hurting her would be unbearable for him.

With unsteady hands he pulled her up on speed dial and called her.  The phone rang once, twice, before she picked up.

“Hey, Lucifer.”

Oh, how nice it was to hear her voice!  He could just imagine her on the other end, probably doing paperwork and not even paying any attention to the call.  Swallowing hard, he said, “Hello, Detective.”

There was a pause, then she said, “Are you okay?  You sound funny.”

“I....”  What could he tell her that wouldn’t hurt her feelings?  He thought hard.  He didn’t want to hurt her.  Other than his parents, she was the most important person he had ever encountered in his entire existence.  He had to do this right... and yet he couldn’t think of a bloody thing to say.  “I....”

“I’m looking forward to tonight,” she said in a warm voice.  He could hear her smile as she spoke.  “Is it going to be casual?  Dressy?  What should I wear?”

Bloody hell, this was far more difficult than he could have imagined!  He took a deep breath.  “Right.  About tonight....”

She sounded eager, excited.  “Yes?”

“I... I have to cancel.”

There was a long pause on the other end.  “Oh.  Okay.  Is everything okay?”

He could hear the concern lacing her tone, and scrambled to allay any fears she might be harboring.  “Oh, everything is....”  What could he say that wasn’t a lie?  Everything was not all right; he felt as if his heart was breaking.  “I mean... I’m... I’m sorry I have to cancel.”   _ That, _ at least, was not a lie.

“Oh... okay.  Well, what about tomorrow?  Dan said he wanted to take Trixie out, so I’d be free --”

He bit the inside of his cheek until it bled.  “N-no.  That... won’t be possible either.”

There was dead silence for what felt like forever.  “Oh,” she finally said in a flat tone.  “I see.  Okay.”  He could hear the forced jocularity in her voice.  “It’s okay.  I have to help Trixie with her homework, anyway.”

Lucifer squeezed his eyes shut.   _ I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry....  Forgive me.   _ “Truly, I didn’t mean... I wish --”

“It’s okay,” she said, still with forced brightness.  “Everything is fine.  I’ll see you at the station tomorrow, okay?”  She hung up without waiting for his answer.

Bloody hell, he had hurt her -- badly.  He’d have to be a bloody prat not to know that.  Cursing himself to Hell and back, he walked into his bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed.  Grabbing one of the pillows, he clutched it hard to his chest, hoping that it would stop the vast emptiness ripping his soul to shreds.  He lay down and curled up into a fetal position as he struggled to stop the pain radiating from his chest.

The night passed by, but Lucifer did not sleep; he lay in the darkness, his eyes open but unseeing as he wished to be anyone other than who he was.

 

 


	4. Ella's Intervention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A super-big thank you to my excellent beta, mishasan7! You rock!

 

 

“I don’t get it.”

Chloe stabbed her slice of pepperoni pizza with a fork repeatedly as she sat across from Ella at the Nickel Mine in West Los Angeles.  She was so glad the cheery lab tech had been available to join her at the bar, for she needed support... desperately.

“I mean, I really don’t get it,” she repeated as she jabbed the pizza crust and left the fork standing upright, like a sword thrust into the ground.  “It’s been a week since I found out Lucifer was Lightbringer1.  He asked me out on a date, then cancelled hours later... and he hasn’t talked to me since.”

Ella grimaced in sympathy.  “He hasn’t talked to you at all?”

Chloe shook her head.  “He won’t even answer his phone.  Sometimes I hear that he’s in the precinct, so I go looking for him, but... he won’t even let me get near him.  Whenever he sees me, he takes off running in the opposite direction.  He looks... hunted.”  She ran her hand through her hair, struggling not to rip it out in agitation.  “God, I should have known better.  He did this once before when I opened up to him, and went missing for three weeks.  What an idiot I am!”

“No, no, no, I’m sure there’s some mistake.”  Her drinking companion fiddled with her bottle of cherry cider.  “You know Lucifer -- he’s really into his role, and sometimes doesn’t act like... well, like you and me..  I’m sure there’s an explanation.  Believe me, he has a total crush on you --”

“If he has a total crush on me, why would he be avoiding me at every turn?”  Chloe shook her head as the hurt she had tried to bury all week came to the fore.  “My god, Ella, he can’t even bear to be in the same room as me!  His behavior is making it impossible to work with him.  Luckily the Vellucci case was open and shut so I didn’t need him, but....”

“He’s still coming to the station, right?”  The lab tech leaned forward on the table.  “Look, maybe he’s shy --”

“Shy?!”  Chloe let out a derisive snort.  “Lucifer?  Mister ‘what do you desire’ Morningstar?  You must be joking.”

Ella frowned and shook her head.  “There must be some mistake.  I know he loves you --”

“No.  No mistake.”  Chloe gulped down the rest of her Whiskey Wine cocktail and slammed the glass down on the table.  “I was a fool to think that he felt something for me.”

It was her own damn fault, really.  So stupid to have fallen for her partner, of all people...!  If only Lucifer hadn’t written those stories....  They had been so beautiful and romantic, but apparently they meant nothing.  She should have never let them turn her head.  A self-deprecating laugh escaped her lips.  She was a fool.

Depression swamped her as she looked out the window to the street.  Lucifer must have been horrified to find out that she had feelings for him.  Even though he had said he cared for her too, it must have been a smoke screen.  After all, what else would he say when confronted by a crazy partner who was punching and kissing him all at the same time?

Cursing herself, she ran a frustrated hand through her hair.  She had scared the living daylights out of Lucifer, and now she was stuck with these stupid feelings for him.  Well, she’d just have to get over them.  She could go back to the way it had been, right?  Before all of this fanfiction nonsense...?  Just... friends.  Business as usual, right?  She could do it.  She had to.

“I’m going to let him go,” Chloe finally said.  Ignoring her companion’s horrified look, she nodded to herself and pulled out her phone.  This was the right decision -- the only way to get things back to normal.  “I’ll text him and tell him that everything was a mistake --”

“No, you can’t do that,” Ella cried as she reached across the table and laid a hand on Chloe’s device.  “Before you do anything, let me talk to him.  I’m sure I can straighten this out.”

“But --”

“Please, Chloe.”

After giving her friend a long, considering look, she finally shrugged as she sought to bury the ache in her chest once again.  “Okay, but it’s against my better judgment.”

Ella sagged with relief.  “You won’t regret it.  I’ll talk to him first thing in the morning.”

 

 

________________________________________

 

 

Lucifer couldn’t believe what he had been reduced to.

For a week he had avoided Chloe like the plague.  It wasn’t because he wanted to -- oh no, he longed to sit across from her and admire her beauty like one of those silly fops in romance movies, or wax lyrical about her strong, noble, courageous character -- maybe even sing to her while playing his piano...?  Or actually just have sex with her.  Lots and lots and  _ lots _ of sex.  Wonderful, hot, passionate, erotic sex... in a bed, on his balcony, in the car, on the desk -- oh, anywhere he could have her!

But... well....  He couldn’t really do that, could he?  For the truth was that he loved her far too much to enter any kind of relationship with her.  He was the Devil.  How could he expect her to have any feelings for him once she found out the truth?  And even if she did, just being with him would ruin her life.  No.  He couldn’t do that to her... but it didn’t mean he couldn’t see her.  Like a cowardly, twitterpated fool, he tried to catch glimpses of her at the station from afar.  Just the mere sight of Chloe set his heart pounding so madly that he thought he would die -- well, if he  _ could _ die.  But he couldn’t afford to talk to her -- if he did, he’d turn into a pathetic pile of love goo at her feet, and he couldn’t have that.  She must never know how much he loved her... so he did the only thing he could think of whenever she came near: he ran.  Yes, it was gauche and juvenile, but he couldn’t stop himself.  It would have been easier to stop going to the precinct, but he couldn’t bring himself to do that.  How could he live without even a glimpse of her?  No... he had to be at the station, so that he could at least  _ see _ her.  The Devil shook his head.  He had become a stalker -- a sodding stalker.  Bloody hell, he was a proper mess.

As he peeked around a corner, stealing glances at Chloe sitting at her desk, a tap on his shoulder had him jumping like a scalded cat.  A yelp escaped him; bloody hell, had Chloe heard him?  Biting his lower lip, he pressed himself hard against the wall as he turned to see who had tapped him.  Ella stood beside him, her arms crossed in front of her, glaring daggers at him.  He sagged in relief.  Just Ella.  He could deal with her without any problem....

_ Well, perhaps not, _ he thought as she grabbed his arm in a fierce grip and dragged him into her office.

She didn’t bother to exchange pleasantries with him.  Instead, she immediately pounced with, “Why in the world are you avoiding Chloe?!”

Lucifer’s mouth dropped open.  This was the last thing he had expected to hear from Ella’s lips.  “What?”

Poking him in the chest, she said, “How could you just drop her like a hot potato?  I mean, seriously, dude?!”

“I... well, I --”

“Don’t you like her?!”

“Of course I like her!” the Devil exclaimed.  “Bloody hell, you, of all people, should know that!”

Ella shot an accusatory glance at him.  “Then why are you running away from her?  Don’t you realize you’re driving her away?”

Panic gripped his insides, squeezing his chest until it hurt.  “Well --”

“Dude, she thinks you don’t care.”

Pain lanced his heart.  “I do, but --”

Lucifer could feel the hot rage emanating from Ella’s very being.  In fact, she looked like she wanted to throw something at his head.  “Then why are you avoiding her?!”

“Ah.... right... about that....”  His eyes darted all over the room -- everywhere but at her.

The bubbly lab tech slapped her palm onto her forehead.  “I can’t believe you!  What is the problem?!”

“Well, it’s just that....”  He ducked his head with shame.  “I’m the Devil....”

“Oh my  _ god!” _

Lucifer winced.  “Can you  _ please _ stop invoking Dad?  It pains my ears....”

“Okay, look -- I understand you’re a method actor, but can you please drop the Devil act for just one second?  You’re going to miss out on the chance of a lifetime!”  Ella crossed her arms in front of her and glared at him.  “You have to fix this.  You have to tell her you love her!”

“I can’t!” he cried.  “You don’t understand --”

“What don’t I understand?”

_ “I’m the Devil!” _

She rolled her eyes at him.  “Oh for crying out loud, Lucifer!   Stop taking your part so seriously!”

Lucifer ran his hand over his face as he suppressed a primal scream.  Why didn’t anyone ever believe him?  Taking a deep breath, he said as patiently as he could, “Right.  The reason why I’m avoiding the detective is because I’m afraid I’ll ruin her life.  She’d be tainted by my reputation --”

“Dude, lots of playboys get reformed.  She’ll be fine!”

Squeezing his eyes tightly, he ground out, “She will not be fine.  And even if she was, she’d be consorting with a monster.”

“My god, such melodrama!”  The lab tech grabbed Lucifer’s shoulders and shook him hard.  “Look, Lucifer, at least tell Chloe why you can’t go out with her!”

Pulling out of her grip, he tried to stop the hollowness that had grabbed a hold of his insides, emptying out his emotions, his insides, his very life.  “I... I can’t.  I can’t even face her.”

Her lips tightened.  “Then write it down.  Write it all out and give it to her... but at least tell her why -- you owe her that much.”

He had to admit it; Ella was right.  He did owe Chloe an explanation.  “Very well.”

Whether she would believe it or not, he wasn’t sure, but he’d try.

 

 


	5. The Reasons Why

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to my beta, mishasan7! You're awesome!

 

 

That night, Lucifer sat in front of a public access computer in the darkened hall of the closed library.  For a long time he just sat there, unmoving, as he stared at the blank screen.  Finally, he straightened and logged on.

He hadn’t written in a week; it felt odd to be sitting before the monitor, with a keyboard in front of him.  Could he still write?  Or did he still have the cursed ED in the head?  After rubbing his hands against his trousers, he shook them out and took a deep breath, then set his fingers on the keyboard.

“Bloody hell, let’s do this.”

He began to type.

Surprisingly, it came easier than he had expected.  Words flowed onto the page, at first full of joy as he wrote about his feelings for his detective.  The warmth in his chest of knowing she cared for him, the fear of asking her out for the first time, and the excitement of planning the outing.  And then.... then came the confrontation with Amenadiel.  He didn’t use names, although there was no doubt his brother would know exactly who he was writing about.

 

 

________________________________________

 

 

“Why did you call me out here?” Lucifer asked as he stood on the sandy beach, staring out at the crashing surf before him.  His brother stepped up to his side and smirked.

“I hear you’re getting ready to date a human.”

“That’s right.”

His brother laughed uproariously at that.  “You -- the Devil?  With a human?”

“The detective... she said she cares for me,” he said, glaring at the other man.

“Heavenly Father, you are a fool.  She could never love you.  Look at yourself!  You’re hideous!”  His brother leaned in close.  “Scarred, skinless, bloody... inhuman.  Do you really think she’d be attracted to  _ that?” _

Lucifer’s insides churned as he turned his back to his brother.  “You know nothing.  The detective is good and kind.  She wouldn’t care.”  Even as he said the words, doubts niggled at him.  What did he really know of the detective?  She may bloody well care about his hideous form.  After all, he  _ was _ a monster.

“She  _ would _ care, Lucifer.  You’re a fool to think she wouldn’t.”

Whirling around, Lucifer pushed his shoulders back and lifted his chin.  “I’m still going out with her.”

“Without telling her?  Showing her?  You selfish bastard.  I always knew you were an ass.”  His brother shoved his chest, pushing him off-balance; the fallen angel stumbled a step backward before finding his footing.

“What’s wrong with wanting a little happiness?” he roared as he shoved back.  “I’m entitled to a little happiness, am I not?  Bloody hell, I’ve lived my whole life alone!  At least give me this one date!”

His brother struck him hard in the face, with the strength of a hundred men behind the blow.  Lucifer’s head snapped back and he toppled into the sand.  Standing over him, his brother glared down and stepped on his chest, pushing down hard.  “You don’t deserve happiness.  You’re Evil Incarnate!  You’re so selfish that you can’t even see that what you’re doing will hurt the detective!”

Lucifer froze in his struggles to keep his brother from crushing him.  “What do you mean?”

Removing his foot, his brother kneeled down and leaned close to his face.  “Come on, surely you know?”

He shook his head, his eyes growing wide.  Fear skittered up and down his spine.  The last thing he wanted to do was hurt his detective....

“You’re the  _ Devil. _  If she dates you, she will be the Devil’s Consort.  She will be cast in the same lot as you.  She’ll be an outcast among her people -- a pariah, forever reviled because of her association with you.  And even if you only go on one date with her, the stain will be there for all eternity.   _ Forever. _  She’ll be considered just as evil as you.  You’ll be dooming her to a lifetime of hurt and shame -- and it will be all your fault, because you don’t care about anyone but yourself.”

Lucifer shook his head, frantic to deny the truth in his brother’s words.  “No.  No, that wouldn’t happen --”

“It will, you fool -- see if it doesn’t.  She’ll hate you forever -- can you live with that?”

And with that, his brother punched him so hard that he saw stars... and then blackness.  When he finally regained consciousness, the sun had sunk low on the horizon, and his brother was nowhere in sight.  Pulling himself up onto his elbows in the cooling sand, he reached into his jacket pocket and fished out his phone.  Had it been damaged in the fight?  He breathed a sigh of relief when the device lit up.  The image of his detective came up on the screen, and he stared longingly at it.

Fragments of his brother’s words came back into his mind, haunting him, screaming at him.  Squeezing his eyes shut, he fought back the tears that threatened to flow.  He loved his detective, more than his own life.  He couldn’t condemn her to a life of humiliation, of being tied to a monster.  He loved her too much.  Dialing with a heavy heart, he canceled their date.

 

 

________________________________________

 

 

Lucifer leaned back in his chair.  Not at all how his argument with Amenadiel had gone down, but close enough.  Although they had not traded physical blows, the angel’s words had done more damage than his fist could have.  The Devil sighed and rubbed his face.  It was late, but early on the East Coast.  He’d see if his beta could review his story.

Luckily it was seven o’clock in the morning on the east coast; he hoped YsgrifennuUffern was up.  He sent her an email, then linked her up to the Google document and waited.  Sure enough, she came online and started reviewing his work.

“Well?” he asked anxiously in a chat session.  “Is it all right?”

“It’s fine.  I’ve flagged a few minor things, but I see you’ve picked those up already.” After a pause, she wrote, “Are you okay?”

“I’m as well as the Devil could be.  Why do you ask?”

“Your stories seem very dark lately.  You seem to be going through a rough time right now.”

Lucifer frowned as he wrote back his response.  “Things have been better.”

“Well, I’m here if you need to talk.  Hang in there -- things are never as bad as they appear.  Love is blind, you know.  It doesn’t care about looks, or anything like that.  If you love someone, none of that matters.  Keep that in mind, okay?”

He smiled at the monitor, grateful for her support.  “Very well.”

Logging out of the chat, he posted his story on Archive of Our Own.  He wondered if he should gift it to Chloe, but decided against it.  She would find it eventually.  He couldn’t bring himself to face her just yet.

 

 

________________________________________

 

 

Unable to sleep, Chloe lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling.  She missed Lucifer, longed to hear his beautiful, lilting voice calling, “Detective!” in that happy manner of his.  One week of only catching glimpses of his tall, well-dressed form at the precinct had been hell; he hadn’t posted any stories as Lightbringer1 in that time, either.  He had basically cut himself off from her, and she didn’t know why.  All she had of him were his older fanfiction stories on AO3.  She pored over them, trying to find a reason why he would suddenly turn away from her.  Other than the romantic tales, there were only the stories where she killed him after he revealed himself to be the Devil, but she dismissed those.  There was no way Lucifer was the Devil.  He must have been working through some self-hatred issues at the time.

Rolling over, she punched her pillow and pulled the covers up to her chin in a huff.  “Idiot,” she muttered to herself.  She had scared him off, there was no doubt about it.  Scared him to death.  Why hadn’t she kept their relationship friendly?  Why had she gone into the no-go zone of developing stupid, romantic feelings for the man?

And yet, those stories he had written were so full of... love, it was hard to imagine that he had made them all up.  He had obviously admired the detective in the story -- had strong feelings for her -- and he  _ had _ written the story about Little Palm.  Surely that was Palmetto?  It all seemed to indicate that he had been writing about her, Chloe Decker... but had she been wrong?  His avoidance of her told her louder than words that she had been.

Sighing, she propped herself on her elbow and checked her alarm clock.  Damn.  It was only 5:30 in the morning.  She had to get up in another half-hour; she didn’t want to, but she couldn’t sleep.  Rubbing her gummy, tired eyes, she pulled herself to a sitting position and grabbed the tablet off her nightstand.  Maybe she could check her email, read some of those old Lightbringer1 stories.  At least she could pretend they were about her, even if they weren’t.

The notification from AO3 of a new story by Lightbringer1 caught her attention. Lucifer had posted?  Her hands shook with eagerness as she opened the story, “Longing for Love.”

She blinked with surprise as she read.  She was filled with warmth at how excited he was that his detective cared for him, and laughed at his nervousness in asking her out on a date.  Reading about the phone call of a week ago when Lucifer had asked her out was disconcerting, and yet it was heartwarming as well.  That strange, awkward, and oddly adorable phone call was reproduced almost word for word.  He  _ was _ talking about her -- there was no longer any doubt in her mind.  Hope burst in her chest, chasing away the depression that had been plaguing her for the last week.  He cared...  _ he cared! _

And then she got to the fight on the beach.

Her face darkened as she read all the comments Lucifer’s brother made about how hideous he was, that his detective would become a pariah, and that she’d hate him forever.  Who the hell was this brother to tell him that he was the Devil?!  Who was this brother to tell him what the detective would think or feel? Rage burned like wildfire in her gut; it was a struggle to control it.  Had the brother been Amenadiel?  Was he the reason that Lucifer had such a bad case of self-loathing?  After all, how would it feel to be accused of being the Devil by one’s own sibling, over and over and over?  If she ever saw Amenadiel again, she’d punch him in the face!  The nerve of that guy!

Setting her tablet down on her nightstand, Chloe pressed her lips together and lifted her chin.  She’d track down Lucifer at the precinct today -- drag him into an interrogation room, if that was what it took -- and they’d clear the air.  Clearly his self-loathing was getting in the way of things, and he needed help.  She was going to let him know that she cared, and that it didn’t matter to her what others thought.  She didn’t hate him -- far from it!  Nodding her head, she pulled back the covers and got out of bed.

Her partner needed her, and she’d be damned if she was just going to sit by and watch him suffer.

 

 


	6. Hope Springs Eternal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A super-huge thank you to my beta, mishasan7! Thanks for your hard work!

 

 

Lucifer walked into the police precinct mid-morning as he usually did, but on this day he felt strangely self-conscious because of the story he had posted.  He wondered if Chloe had read it, then dismissed the thought.  Probably not.  Why should she?  Sighing, he crept along the hallway until he spotted her sitting at her desk.

Oh, how beautiful she was!  He watched her for a few minutes, admiring the tilt of her head as she worked on the computer.  If only he could get a little closer -- he missed the way her eyes narrowed with concentration when they were working on a case, missed her reluctant chuckle when he made her laugh, and her scolding voice when he did something she thought was inappropriate.  Shoving his hands in his pockets, he leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes.  How he wished he could be sitting across from her this instant, teasing her, trying to catch her eye, throwing paper wads at her bent head --

But no.  He was the Devil.  Amenadiel was right.  He couldn’t -- wouldn’t -- destroy her for his own happiness.

Shoulders slumping, he pushed away from the wall and shuffled back down the hall.  In a matter of minutes he stood in front of the plate glass window of Ella’s office, staring at the dim reflection of himself in the glass.  He took in his ragged appearance -- his unkempt hair, the bleak emptiness in his eyes, and his shirt half-untucked from his trousers.  He looked miserable, like the homeless magician the detective had once called him.  A short huff of a laugh escaped him.  What a pathetic Devil he was.

Beyond the glass, Ella worked on her computer.  She must have felt his presence somehow, for she suddenly turned and caught sight of him.  Lucifer saw her wave him in but he didn’t move, content to just stare at his wretched reflection.  She finally came out into the hall, grabbed his arm, and dragged him into her office.

Shutting the door, she beckoned him to sit in her chair as she sat on the desk beside him.  “You look awful,” she said.

He snorted as he slouched in the chair.   _“Thank_ you.  Just what I bloody well wanted to hear.”

“No, I’m serious, dude!  What have you been doing to yourself?”

Lucifer glanced up at her with listless eyes.  “I... I wrote what you asked... the reasons why I can’t be with the detective.”

Ella’s blinked at him, her eyebrows rising.  “And?  Did you show it to her?”

Shaking his head, he looked away.  “I posted it on AO3.  I presume she will see it eventually.”  He sighed.  “It just reinforced the reasons why she and I can never be together.”

“But... but Chloe may not think so.”

Lucifer merely shrugged.

Ella frowned at him, then sighed.  “Look, Lucifer, I know you think you can’t be with Chloe, but shouldn’t you be giving her the freedom to choose whether she wants to be with you or not?  Nothing is insurmountable, you know -- only if you make it so.  Don’t shove her away without giving her the chance to make up her own mind.”

Turning desolate eyes to Ella, Lucifer said, “I’ll destroy her life.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.”  Exhaling sharply, he ground the heels of his palms into his eyes.  “I do, my dear.”

Ella grabbed one of his wrists and wrenched his hand down, away from his face.  Lowering his other hand, he stared at her, wide-eyed, as she glared at him.  “Give her a chance, Lucifer.  You owe it to her.”

Releasing his wrist, she stood and yanked a file off of her desk.  “I have to deliver this to Gutierrez and tell her my findings.  I’ll be back.  Feel free to use my computer if you like, while you think about what I said.”

After Ella left, Lucifer stared long and hard at the computer.  It wouldn’t hurt if he just... checked the comments on his story, would it?  Who knows, maybe his readers had a different perspective on this whole mess.  Logging onto AO3, he went directly to his story and found a number of comments posted.

The first comment, from ThisPoetDefinitelyDoesNotWearPrada, surprised him with its lovely message.

From ThisPoetDefinitelyDoesNotWearPrada  : What is wrong with Lucifer's brother?!!!! Why should his appearance change anything? Love comes from the heart not the eyes! Ugh. I just want to punch his brother in the face, see if it makes an improvement! Like I know Lucifer is a fictional character but if he needs his brother beaten up I will happily lend a hand. Or fist. Lucifer's choice really! I may be a poet but I can certainly be dangerous. Take the 3 archery instructors I've shot as an example! XD The Detective would definitely take away all of Lucifer's insecurities (hint hint) *shoves plot bunny in your general direction* And yes I'm aware Lucifer isn't real (duh!) but I wrote this poem for him:   
Some say the Devil does not love   
That he is of metal whips and burning flames.   
However, underneath his battle wounds and boxing glove   
He hides a heart of gold and the purest of aims.

Lucifer’s eyebrows rose as a gentle smile lit his face. The little poem said so much in just a few lines, and lifted his spirits.  It was nice to know that someone thought he had a kind heart and good intentions.  ThisPoetDefinitelyDoesNotWearPrada was certainly a fierce one, jumping to defend him!  And although he wasn’t quite sure what a plot bunny was -- what did rabbits have to do with anything?  -- he was quite pleased.

“Thank you, my dear,” he said as his face flushed with pleasure.  “I’ll be sure to call on you when Amenadiel needs to be shot thrice with arrows!”

Another comment, this one from LuciFangirl, had him chortling with glee.

From Lucifangirl : Ugh, that brother of his really chafes my ass. Not a good brother and not a good angel either. Just a great big assbutt. Come on, let Lucifer go on a date - he’s as deserving of happiness as anyone else!

“Yes, LuciFangirl, you tell that sodding brother of mine!  Arsebutt, indeed!”  The comment that he was as deserving of happiness as anyone else warmed Lucifer’s heart immensely.  He was glad that someone thought so.

But of course, Maze had to chime in and ruin his mood...

From 1ForgedInHell :  Bwahahaha!  Your brother beat you up? That wimp?  If I had been with you, my lord and master, that would have never happened.  But of course, Lightbringer1, love has made you sappy and weak...   >:-D

Lucifer frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose.  Bloody hell, he really needed to have a talk with his demon about her comments...

And uh-oh... there it was.  Amenadiel had seen his story and was not pleased.  His face twisted into a grimace as he read his brother’s comment.

From Amenadiel :  Seriously?  I mean, seriously, Luci?!  I didn’t know you were Lightbringer1 until now.  You fricking ass.  You ass!  How dare you make me into the bad guy when you’re the one who’s the selfish fricking ASS!!!  You know everything I told you was the truth!  You’re the Devil!  Get over your detective and come home with us!  Goddamned ASS!

Wincing, Lucifer almost didn’t read the rest of the comments, but then he saw that his superhero reader, Shipperstar, had come to save the day!

From Shipperstar :  So, you actually know Lightbringer1 IRL?  And...you are aware of whatever he's working through ('cause there's obviously some stuff there) and you are making the choice to treat him this way?  I don't know what to say except you should be ashamed of yourself.  I'm going to roll with the metaphor of Lightbringer's universe here and tell you that the choice to accept him or not is completely subject to the detective's free will.  Not your call, "you fricking ass."

Shipperstar’s defense of him warmed Lucifer’s heart.  “I admire you from here to the moons of Jupiter, my dear Shipperstar,” he said with a grin, which faded when he read Amenadiel’s rebuttal.

From Amenadiel :  You have no idea what you’re talking about, Missy Unicorn with the rainbow stars and junk.  Stay out of this.  He needs to realize that he’s the Devil and stop trying to find happiness where it doesn’t exist.  He’s the Devil.  Earth holds no happiness for him and that fricking ass needs to own up to it.  And don’t lecture me on free will!  We’re talking about the detective’s well-being here.  And even if she has free will, Luci doesn’t.  He’s not allowed to have happiness.  HE’S THE DEVIL.

From Shipperstar  :  First, you know shit about me, so check it before I wreck it.  AO3 is supposed to be a safe space for writers.  That means you don't get to come in here and bully someone because they're cock-blocking your stupid plan for what their life should be.  Sure, okay.  LB1 is The Devil.  Whatever.  Even HE deserves happiness.  Mark Twain (maybe you've heard of him) was far more eloquent than I could ever be:   
_But who prays for Satan? Who in eighteen centuries, has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner that needed it most, our one fellow and brother who most needed a friend yet had not a single one, the one sinner among us all who had the highest and clearest right to every Christian's daily and nightly prayers, for the plain and unassailable reason that his was the first and greatest need, he being among sinners the supremest?_ _  
_ Now play nice before I whip out my magic AO3 Admin card and ban your sorry ass.

“Bravo, Shipperstar, Bravo,” Lucifer whispered with a soft smile.  The back of his eyes burned at Shipperstar’s defense of him.  It touched his heart that all of his readers cared so much about him and his happiness.  Maybe... maybe if they thought he and the detective belonged together, then perhaps he _could_ date her?  Maybe he did deserve a little happiness....?

But wait, what was this?  Chloe had joined the comment thread, responding to Amenadiel’s second comment, as well -- and posted not even an hour ago!  Rubbing his eyes to make sure he wasn’t seeing things, he drew closer to the monitor.  No, it definitely said RekcedC!  He couldn’t believe it!

From RekcedC :  You tell him, Shipperstar!  OMG, Amenadiel, I can’t believe you.  I wasn’t sure it was you until I saw your stupid comment.  How dare you make Lightbringer1 hate himself?!  How dare you accuse him of being the Devil?!   How would you like it if your brother told you day in and day out that you were the epitome of evil?  You’re the reason Lightbringer1 has so much self-loathing!  You better hope we never run into each other again because I’m going to beat you to a pulp!  And Shipperstar, if you’re ever in LA, I’ll take you to dinner because you deserve it!

Hope he thought long dead started to bloom in his chest, filling the emptiness of his soul with warmth.  His detective was defending him!  She cared!  Could it be that it didn’t matter that he was the Devil?  Could she love him despite who he was?  Maybe... maybe Amenadiel was wrong...?  His heart pounded at a breakneck pace and he grew breathless.  A huge, gleeful grin lit his face as love filled his very being, making him feel lighter than air.  He had to find Chloe.  He had to find her!

He ran out of Ella’s office and down the hall toward his partner’s desk.  As he turned the corner, he nearly knocked someone down.  Reaching out to steady the person before him, he blinked with surprise.  It was Chloe.

“D-Detective...?”

She stared at him with wide eyes for a split second, frozen, before she grabbed his arm and dragged him down one hall, then another.  As Lucifer scrambled to keep up, his stomach lurched and roiled, and his fingers grew numb with cold.  Was she angry that he had cancelled their date?  That he had avoided her for a week?  Bloody hell, was she going to tell him that their partnership was over?!

He couldn’t think straight as a sharp, knifing sensation struck his chest.  No, no, no....  He couldn’t let her tell him that their relationship was over!  His breath shortened, almost faltered to nothingness.  He had to stop, had to run --

Just as he was about to dig his heels into the floor, she tossed him into an interrogation room and slammed the door shut.  He stumbled into the table then turned, his eyes wide as his heart thumped in triple-time.  Was this the end?

Chloe strode up to him, her eyes glinting with fire and her jaw set.  She was going to punch him again, he just knew it.  Even though excitement reared its head, sparking arousal through his body, he felt fear, as well.  Squeezing his eyes shut, Lucifer braced himself for the impact.  For a minute he stood there, cringing -- him, the Devil! -- but nothing happened.  Prying open one eye, he peeked at her.  She just stood before him, staring up at him with an inscrutable expression on his face.  He opened both eyes and blinked down at her, unsure of what to expect.

“D-Detective...?”

And then she was in his arms, hugging him so tightly that it took his breath away.  The soft warmth of her body pressed against his chased away the tightness in his chest, and the rigidity in his limbs started to ease.  Unsure of what to do, he hesitated before throwing caution to the wind and wrapping his arms around her.  The floral fragrance of her shampoo surrounded him as he pressed his cheek to her hair.  The feel of her in his arms sent a thrill racing up and down his spine, and his heart tripped over itself before beating like a mad thing.  He wished he could stop time so that they could stay like this forever, entwined for all eternity....

She mumbled something in his chest, but he couldn’t understand what she said.  He tried to pull back, but she tightened her hold and shook her head.  Joy lit his face at her fervent embrace.

“I... I’m sorry about last week,” he finally said.

“You should be.  I ought to punch you,” she muttered, giving him a squeeze.  “Why did you listen to Amenadiel?”

He returned her squeeze with one of his own.  “Well, he’s... he _is_ my big brother, and what he said... made sense.”

“No, it didn’t, and being your brother doesn’t make him right,” Chloe replied as she lifted her head.  “He’s a jerk.  You are not a monster.”

“But --”

“No.  You are _not_ a monster and you are _not_ evil.”  She glared at him fiercely, daring him to deny it.  He could only gape at her, speechless at her defense.  With a sharp nod, she snuggled back against his chest.  “Look, I know you had a hard time growing up.  It must have been awful to be told over and over what a horrible person you are -- but the truth is that you’re not.  You’re a good man, Lucifer.  Sure, you have a reputation as a playboy and a dealmaker, but that doesn’t scare me.”

He bit his lower lip.  He had to make her understand, even though everything inside him screamed not to.  “It’s not just that --”

“Stop,” she said, punctuating her word with a little shake.  “You’re the best partner I’ve ever had.  You’ve never lied to me, and you’ve always had my back.  I wouldn’t be saying that if you were evil.  I would have locked you up a long time ago.”

Warmth permeated his bones as elation coursed through him.  How he loved his detective!  Still, he had to tell her...  “But... I _am_ the Devil, Detective.”

“No, you’re not.”  She pulled away and crossed her arms in front of her chest.  “You are not the Devil.  You may share his name, but that’s all you have in common with him.  You’re kind.  You’re good.  I’m proud to stand next to you and call you my partner.  Do you hear me, Lucifer Morningstar?”

He couldn’t stop the slow, gentle smile from lighting his face.  Maybe she really didn’t care that he was the Devil...?  Maybe... just maybe, he had a chance at real happiness.  “I hear you, Detective.”

“Good!”

She threw herself back into his arms, and he held her close, astounded at the feelings sweeping through him.  He had never felt this way before, so full of tenderness, respect, and appreciation.  Her warmth, her caring, her very goodness -- he couldn’t even begin to express what she meant to him.  He would never let her go... never.  They stayed wrapped in each other’s arms for a long moment before he finally spoke.

“Detective...”

“Mmm?”

Bloody hell, this was hard.  “Would... would you...?”

She glanced up at him, her eyes puzzled.  “What?”

He tried not to stumble over the words.  “Would you care to join me for dinner tonight?”

She stared into his eyes, surprise on her face, and for a split-second fear shot through him.  Had he made a mistake?  Had he misinterpreted what she had been telling him, what she felt for him?  But then her face lit up like the sun and she beamed at him.

“I would love to, Lucifer.  I would love to.”

 

 

________________________________________

 

 

“Mom, Lucifer’s being an ass.”

Charlotte Richards looked up from the papers on her desk to see Amenadiel standing before her in the center of her office, with his arms crossed in front of him and a scowl on his face.  Putting down her pen, she stood up and rounded the desk to stand before her son.  “What did he do?”

“That ass put me in one of his stories and made me a bad guy.”  He thrust his lip out and pouted.  “I was just trying to help and he --”

“Stories?  What stories?” she asked, trying to understand what her son was talking about.

“He writes stories, Mom.  About... love and hearts and mushy stuff.  He put me in his stupid story and made me the bad guy!”  Throwing himself into a nearby chair, he ran his hand over his head.  “How could he embarrass me in front of the world this way?!”

 _“What_ are you talking about?”  Charlotte squinted at her son, her eyebrows furrowed.

“Here, I’ll show you,” Amenadiel said as he rose to his feet and walked to her computer.  Tapping on a few keys, he motioned her over.  “Take a look.”

It only took a few seconds for Charlotte to read all of Lightbringer1’s stories -- after all, she had read an entire law library in a weekend.  Rocking back on her heels, she turned to her son.  “Lucifer wrote this?”

“Yeah.  See what he did to me?”

She waved his complaint aside.  “Amenadiel, this... detective.  Is this detective a real person?”

He nodded.  “Yeah.  He’s head over heels in love with her.  I was able to stop them from dating, though.”

A myriad of thoughts darted through Charlotte’s head.  Thinking aloud, she said, “This detective is going to be a problem.”

“A problem?”  Amenadiel cocked his head at his mother.  “How could she be a problem?”

“Don’t you see?”  Placing a hand on her son’s shoulder, he gave him a gentle shake.  ““If Lucifer’s in love with her, he’ll never leave Earth... and I have no intention of leaving any of my sons behind in this wretched place.  We’ll have to kill her.”

“Kill...?!”  The tall angel gaped at her cold-blooded statement, then shook his head.  “You can’t do that, Mom!  Besides, it won’t work -- you’ll just make Luci mad.  Trust me.  He’ll never forgive you if you harm her.”

“Hmm....”  Charlotte’s eyes narrowed as she rubbed her chin.  “We’ll just have to get him to lose those pesky feelings for her, then.  He’ll come back with us willingly if we can get her to hate him -- reject him.”

Amenadiel’s brows drew together.  “And how do we do that?”

“We tell her he’s the Devil.”

A burst of laughter erupted from his lips.  “She doesn’t believe it.  She thinks he’s just an eccentric human.”

For a moment she was expressionless; then she smiled.  Her resemblance to a shark at that moment sent chills down her son’s spine.  “Then we get her to believe it.  Showing her his true face should be more than sufficient to do the job...”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this installment of Meta-Lucifer! Part 8 is already written and will start posting from tomorrow, so you won't have to wait. Just a little 5-chapter thing. It's called "The Face of the Devil," and as you can tell from the title, Chloe will find out Lucifer really is the Devil. I hope you'll all join me! Thank you all for following along with this series, I really appreciate you choosing this Lucifer and Chloe to spend time with! You're all awesome! <3


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